So I mutter to myself in an underground facility with nary a soul in sight.

It was fine when we all came together and crashed this hideout. But then I got bored fighting with the small fries, so I thought to go on ahead and find the boss first. But then this is the result. Sighs, and I had even practiced my lines for when I meet the boss.

But still, this facility sure is huge. Guess this time it's bandits who had occupied an abandoned military facility?

"Nn?"

At that moment.

I feel the presence of someone approaching from the other side of the underground pa.s.sage.

After a short while, the other side also notices me. They stop a certain distance away from me.

"To think that I was forestalled..."

It's a guy with bulging muscles. And for some reason, his eyes are glowing red. What on earth is that, it's so cool! Can he shoot beams out of his eyes?

"But it is only a single person. This will be easy."

The red-eyed guy makes a twisted smile, then disappears. Or so it would probably seem to a normal person, but he's just moving quickly.

But, well.

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I stop Red Eye's sword with a single hand.

Since I know the direction that he'll be coming from, that speed is not really that much of a threat. Plus, power is all about how it's used.

"Wh!"

Lightly pus.h.i.+ng the shoulder of the surprised Red Eye, I take my distance.

He has even more magic than Alpha. But unfortunately, he doesn't know how to control it at all. He's just a moron with a lot of magic.

Incidentally, I am really not fond of the brutish fighting style that simply relies on doping up on magic to to raise one's strength and speed. Of course, I am not making light of the importance of physical specs. If I was really forced to choose between power or technique, then I would choose power without hesitation. There is no worth in techniques if there is no power. But the imperfect and warped way of fighting by solely relying on physical specs like simple strength, simple speed, and simple reaction time that completely disregards and gives up on the details – that kind of fighting style is something that I really hate.

Physical specs is genetics, but techniques are effort. That's why I, and the power in the shadows that I am aiming to be, would never lose in the area of technique. I apply techniques to my strength, apply schemes to my use of speed, and search for possibilities with my reaction time. Physical specs are important, sure, but I would never stupidly fight while relying solely on it. You could say that that is my esthetics in regards to battle.

Which is why I am slightly ticked off by this magic-doped r.e.t.a.r.d.

So I'll give him a bit of a lesson.

On the proper way to use magic.

"Lesson 1."

I raise my slime sword, and walk towards him.

One step. Two steps. Then the third step.

The moment I took my third step, Red Eye swings his sword. That is his maai.

At that moment, I accelerate.

I only used a tiny bit of magic – I concentrated only on my foot, compressed the magic, then released it all at once.

That was it.

With only that much, the explosion of the compressed magic propels me forward with great vigor.

Red Eye's sword swings through mere air.

But I've already entered my maai.

I no longer need speed. Don't need strength either. Don't even need magic anymore.

I caress Red Eye's neck with my jet black blade.

Just a tiny slice of skin on his neck.

After leaving a red line on Red Eye's neck, I leave my maai.

At the same time, Red Eye's sword barely grazes my cheek.

"Lesson 2."

I dash forward again in conjunction with Red Eye drawing back his blade.

This time, I don't use any magic.

Which is why Red Eye is much faster.

But regardless of how high his speed, he cannot attack at the same time.

Which is why he gets closed in on.

It is only a mere half step.

An almost insignificant distance. A distance that is far for me, close for him.

A moment of silence.

Red Eye is conflicted.

I can see it.

In the end, Red Eye chooses to draw back.

I knew it.

I'd already read from the movement of his magic that that would be his choice.

Which is why, even though Red Eye is faster, it is me who moves first.

I close the distance faster than he retreats, and the tip of my blade caresses his leg.

A bit deeper than last time.

"Kuh...!"

Red Eye lets out a grunt of pain, then retreats even more further.

I choose not to chase him.

"Lesson 3."

This tutorial session has only just begun.

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Has he ever felt such a disparity in strength? So thinks...o...b.. while his body is cut again and again by that jet black sword.

Even when he was fighting with that elf who called herself Alpha, even when he fought and lost to that princess at the Festival of the War of G.o.d, he did not feel such a huge disparity.

If he really had to draw a comparison... it would be from his childhood, when he had barely begun taking up the sword and was facing off against his master. Child versus master. Beginner versus expert. The word 'fight' is not even applicable.

What he is currently feeling is exactly the same as from back then.

His opponent is a young boy who by no means looks strong. At the very least, Olba doesn't feel the sense of pressure from when he fought Alpha. If he really had to sum it up into a single word, it would be 'natural.' His stance, his magic, his swordsmans.h.i.+p, every single thing about his opponent is natural. There is nothing of note in regards to his strength or speed or anything else. No, it's simply that he doesn't need any of it. His sword is purely and perfected completed with skill alone.

Olba's overwhelming advantage in magic capacity is being overturned by skill alone.

Which is why he is feeling that absolute sense of defeat.

The fact that Olba is still standing, that he is still alive, is solely because his opponent has decided so. If he ever changes his mind, Olba's life can be snuffed out in a split second.

Olba in his current state can heal all non-fatal wounds. Of course, there is a limit, and there are also negative side effects.

However, having lost a large amount of blood, having had his flesh sliced open and his bones severed, even he needs time for the recovery.

Despite being in such danger, Olba is still alive.

No, he is being allowed to live on.

So Olba asks.

"Why...?"

Why do you allow me to live on?

Why are you hostile to me?

Why are you so strong?

So, why.

The young boy covered in black merely looks down at Olba.

"Lurking in the shadows, hunting the shadows. That is the only reason why we exist."

It is a deep voice somehow tinged with sorrow.

From that alone, Olba manages to determine the boy's ident.i.ty.

"You, you plan to resist... 'that'?"

In this world, there are those that the law cannot judge. Olba knows this, and thinks of himself as part of them.

Power. Privilege. And hidden faces.

The light of the law cannot reach the edges of the world.

Even while enjoying that benefit, Olba himself is stepped on by those above him, being broken by them.

Thus...o...b.. sought greater power... and fell.

"Even if it is you, and even with all of you... no matter how strong you are, you cannot win. This world's darkness... runs much deeper than you can imagine."

Which is why Olba said such things.

It was not a warning, but a wish. A wish that this young boy, too, would be broken, would lose everything, would be plunged into despair. But at the same time, he is afraid that his wish would not come to be. Simple jealousy and envy.

"Then I will dive. It matters not how deep."

There is no fighting spirit in his voice, nor a burning vigor. Only complete confidence in himself, and an unshakeable resolve.

"You say it so easily, you brat."

Olba cannot accept this.

He absolutely cannot accept this.

Because that is what Olba previously aimed for, but was broken by.

At this moment, Olba decides to cross that last line. He takes out a lozenge from his chest pocket, then swallows it.

Olba has already resigned himself to the fact that he would not be able to leave this place alive. Therefore he will use his own life to teach this brat.

About this world's darkness.